


If We Could Turn Back Time

by Magikkittenz29



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 16th Century CE, 17th Century, 21st Century, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Crying, Disturbing Themes, Drug Abuse, Fighting, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Character Injury, Multi, Past Drug Use, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Supernatural Elements, Vampires, Violence, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 03:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magikkittenz29/pseuds/Magikkittenz29
Summary: Three vampires all born from different timelines meet and live what seems like a domestic life with one another. However, as much as they try to forget about the past, the harder it gets to continue on.( I will update tags if needed and please head the warnings and tags)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Past Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Past Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	If We Could Turn Back Time

✥✥✥  1776, New York City  ✥✥✥

_ Logan walked around the main square, sighing as a group of stablehands wrestled each other, causing dirt to surface and smudge his glasses. He kept his books close to his side, tucked under his arm as he grabbed a handkerchief out from his breast pocket, cleaning the dirt from his spectacles. Briefly, when his eyes were trained on cleaning, he suddenly bumped into a figure. _

_ He yelped as his glasses started falling towards the ground. He dropped his books in a hasty attempt to grab them, managing to just barely grasp it before it hit the rocky, dirt pathway. He sighed with and picked up his books, placing his glasses back onto his face. With a huff he stood up, glaring at the person whom he walked into, just slightly surprised they hadn’t run off already. _

_ “Apologies!” the man said, looking terribly upset at the accident he had just caused. _

_ Logan rolled his eyes, tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket. “While I admit that I was at fault for not paying mind to where I was walking, that does  _ not _ excuse  _ you _ from making that same mistake,” he said rather heatedly, trying his best to keep his temper under control. What would people say if they saw a scholar losing his patience in the middle of the street? That would cause a scene, and nobody would ever let him hear the end of it. _

_ “I’m terribly sorry! I was in a rush to get to the library! I know that doesn’t excuse my actions whatsoever but please pay me no mind! I didn’t mean to run into you,” he said frantically, the glasses he was wearing were slowly falling down the bridge of his nose. _

_ If Logan was composed, cynical, cold, and morally gray, then this man was the exact opposite. His cravat was far from being neatly tied, and he had a bundle of books in his hands, just barely a step away from them dropping to the ground. His glasses were askew, and his posture was hunched over as he gripped the books. His eyes looked extremely apologetic, and his tan skin and freckles showed in contrast just how pale Logan was. _

_ Seemingly now at a loss for words, Logan stiffened, fixing glasses - despite the need not to, an old habit he had yet to break out of - and brushing off the dirt from his coat. “I suppose I shouldn’t be harsh on you, you seem as if you weren’t aware of your current surroundings,” he paused, not quite sure if he wanted to say the next statement. He then sighed, uttering out, “You said you were heading towards the library? I could offer you some help if you would take it.” _

_ The man’s eyes lightened up with surprise and relief. Whether the relief was from Logan’s offer to help or from Logan’s visible anger being doused, the scholar wasn’t sure.  _

_ “If you really don’t mind, I would very much like some help,” he said quietly. _

_ Logan nodded, shrugging his shoulders. He carefully grabbed a few of the many books that the other was carrying, stacking them neatly into his hold. “Since I had forgotten to introduce myself, I am Logan Crofters, a scholar of King’s College,” he said. He would have held his hand out to shake but seeing as both men were preoccupied with them he decided against it. _

_ The man gave him a smile, his eyes twinkling in the afternoon sunlight. “I’m Patton Foster. I’m the owner of the library down the street, it’s a pleasure to be of your acquaintance and I apologize once more for how we first met.” _

✥✥✥ 2019, New York City ✥✥✥

“Logan! The library emailed me another notice! Those books are 2 weeks due!” Virgil’s voice rang out across the room.

Logan snapped out of his trance-like state, his brow furrowing. “I was certain there were a few more weeks left,” he muttered. The vampire was also certain that he had renewed his books, but he supposed he might have messed it up, considering his loose grasp on technology.

He was currently on a reading chair in his room, the book  _ War and Peace _ in his lap. This was the 5th time he had reread it. He stood up, carefully memorizing the page number before closing the book and placing it on his desk. He then started to head downstairs, a navy blue vest, some slacks, and a white button-up as his attire. 

In the living room, Virgil was sitting with his legs crossed, a laptop upon his lap. He was wearing a purple turtle neck and baggy black sweatpants. Despite not needing to go outside for the day, Virgil still decided to put on his black eyeshadow beneath his eyes, accentuating the paleness of his skin even more. He looked up at Logan with a slightly annoyed glance, huffing as he neared.

“Logan, this is the  _ third _ time this month,” he said, crossing his arms.

“I am aware Virgil,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I simply lost track of time, I’ll pay more attention to the deadline.”

“You know Logan, the more you ‘slip up’ the more you’re going to cost us in terms of bills,” Virgil hissed back.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “I understand,” he said exasperatedly. He walked over into the office room, books scattered all around the room. There was a small study desk in the corner with a laptop and a love seat towards the left wall. The office was usually occupied by Dolos, but recently, Logan had taken up a good portion of the room as of late. Thanks to the current generation’s wide extensive branch of knowledge acquired using the internet, the two were trying to accomplish something very important to them both. Virgil didn’t suggest to them to stop trying, but he made many remarks as to why their little mission would fail.

The spectacled vampire sat down in his chair, looking through the books on the desk which had notes scribbled onto them and taped to the page. Virgil never seemed to understand their urgency, their  _ heartbreak _ , their - overwhelming longing; but he had never experienced what the older two did, and it made him painfully unaware of the grief they had both gone through. Not to mention it also made Virgil unaware of their determination to do what they needed to.

A small knock on the frame of the door made him turn around, finding Dolos, looking slightly recluse, standing by the door. “Hey, lunch is ready, and Virgil’s already drinking,” he whispered. His hazel eyes looked away, turning his face so that the burned half of his face was hidden from Logan’s view.

He nodded, fixing his sleeves and rolling them up. He walked past him, brushing the other’s arm as he headed towards the kitchen. 

Dolos and Logan had been tense over the past few weeks. They had the same goal in mind, but they had different outcomes in play.

Logan was slightly more convinced that they would certainly fail, that what they were to do would fail. Dolos, was more positive, believing that what they were trying to attempt would work. Whether what he was saying were lies as he tried to convince himself, Logan didn’t know. There had been endless arguing over the subject and one day, they ignored each other for a large portion of the time they were alone together.

It wasn’t that Logan didn’t  _ want _ them to accomplish their task, he simply was being realistic with the whole situation, analyzing the facts and statistics as well as the impossible and improbable. Dolos, however, was simply clinging onto the last scraps of hope and living off of pure desperation. Logan had tried many times to discourage the other’s enthusiasm in hopes of having the other hurt less if the outcome was less than fortunate, but in the end, Dolos wouldn’t listen. After the few times they grew heated in bickering, Logan decided it was best if the two vampires kept to themselves and cease interactions between each other. Sure, it was tense and awkward, but at least screams didn’t erupt in the house.

The blue-clad vampire’s mind whirled with thoughts as he ate, grabbing a blood packet from the fridge and straw from the pantry. He looked over at Virgil, who was giving him a mock stare of annoyance. “How dare you use plastic straws? Save the turtles Logan and use a metal straw, like me,” he said, raising his wine glass - filled with water-down blood - and smirking at him.

Logan sent him a confused glance back at him, not sure what Virgil was implying, but by the tone of voice, the older presumed it was a ‘meme’, something the younger had been trying to teach him.

As soon as Dolos walked into the kitchen, Logan had already finished - coincidentally - and he quickly left the room, heading back into his room. Seeing as the books from the library were overdue, he might as well make himself useful and head over to the library to return them. He also wanted to avoid any interaction with Dolos and seeing as the latter didn’t have work today, Logan decided it was better to leave the house first.

He sighed, grabbing five heavy books and a casual blue suit jacket. “I’m heading to the library,” he said to the others half-heartedly, closing the door promptly. He hurried out, sighing as he was immediately greeted with crowds passing the streets. He walked among them, taken aback by how much New York had changed from his time.

What used to be dirt roads, small buildings, and carriages, were now concrete sidewalks, cars, skyscrapers, and large crowds of people overtaking the streets. It was such a difference that Logan often forgot about. Sometimes, it made him nostalgic and he wanted to reminisce.

He made it to the library quickly, walking in. He walked up a receptionist, placing his books down. “I’m aware that these are overdue, how much do I owe you?” he asked a little breathlessly, grabbing his wallet out of his coat pocket.

“Ten dollars sir,” the voice piped, and Logan’s heart stuttered. As he fumbled the money out of his pocket, he looked up at the man before him.

It was Patton Foster.

But he couldn’t be, and Logan knew that logically after a few moments. Of course, that didn’t stop his heart from pounding anymore than it already did. The librarian gave him a patient but confused smile. “I need your card sir,” he said, sounding as if he repeated the statement.

Logan nodded mutely, handing the small plastic card to him. “Pardon, I know this might come off as rude, but what is your name?”

The librarian just smiled and said, “Emile Picani,” he said, fixing the glasses on his face. “Why? Have we met before?”

Emile was the spinning image of Patton, with thinner glasses and dyed pink-tipped hair. They had the same eyes, the same scattered freckles, and happy smile. Logan shook his head at the question and gave him a smile in return. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t believe we have. You just seem so familiar, you remind me of someone,” he said as the other gave him his card back.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Emile replied. “That happens to us sometimes.” He placed the books on one of the stands behind him. “Alright, here’s your receipt. I hope you don’t go overdue again.”

Logan nodded back. “Thank you, I hope to see you again.”

And with that, he walked out.

**Author's Note:**

> It's tame for now, but it will get worse as it continues, then slightly better. Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
